Broken
by Itsallablur
Summary: How much does it take to drive someone over the edge?


Title: Broken  
Author: Invision  
Rating: PG  
Spoilers: Nope  
Summary: How much can one man take? This was all I could come up with. :)  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own "The Invisible Man" or any of the characters. I just like to screw with their minds. *evil grin* I'm not making any money off of this.   
  
  
  
  
Broken  
  
Bobby Hobbes walked quickly up the stairs to Darien's apartment. He hadn't shown up for work, so the Official had sent Hobbes to find him. The first thing that always ran through Hobbes' mind in this situation was that Darien had gone quicksilver mad. So far that hadn't been the case, but there was always a chance.   
  
When he reached Darien's place, the landlord was standing outside the door, a worried expression on his face.   
  
"Is there something wrong?" a concerned Hobbes asked.  
  
"Yeah, you know this guy?" the man asked, pointing his thumb towards Darien's door.   
  
"I work with him. He's my partner."  
  
"Well, I'd be careful if you're planning on going in there. Earlier this morning, the two tenants next to him complained about some noise coming from his apartment. One of the women told me that she could hear him yelling about someone who was coming after him." The man paused for a moment, and then continued in a hushed tone. "Does he take drugs?"  
  
"I'll take care of this, sir," Hobbes assured the landlord.   
  
"Yeah, well tell him he better cut it out, or I'll throw him out." The landlord walked off, leaving Bobby alone to deal with whatever was happening inside Darien's apartment.  
  
He knocked on the door. "It's Hobbes, Fawkes. Open up." No answer. He tried again. "Fawkes, are you in there?" Still he got no response. Bobby tried to open the door, but it was locked.   
  
"Crap. You better not be quicksilver mad, pal." Hobbes drew his gun and kicked in the door. He stepped inside cautiously. "Fawkes? Answer me, partner." He moved forward slowly until he spotted Darien. He was curled into a fetal position on his bed mumbling to himself. He was still in his night clothes. "Fawkes, what's wrong?"  
  
At the sound of a familiar voice, Darien looked up at Bobby with frightened brown eyes. Normal eyes. Not the blood red eyes Hobbes had expected. Much to Hobbes' surprise, Darien jumped up and wrapped his arms around him in a tight embrace. "Fawkes, what the hell is wrong with you?" He could feel Darien trembling.   
  
"Ho...Hobbes, they...they're after me," Darien whispered.  
  
"Who?" Hobbes asked with concern.  
  
"The...them. Everyone."  
  
"Fawkes, let go of me." Bobby practically had to pry Darien off of him. Darien sat down on the floor against his bed and brought his knees up to his chest. Bobby bent down and put his hands on Darien's shoulders. "Did somebody hurt you, Fawkes? Did someone try to kidnap you?" Hobbes managed to get a look at Darien's tattoo. It showed only three segments red.   
  
"The shapes wanted to hurt me. They told me, though. They warned me."  
  
By now, Bobby was beyond worried. Darien was acting very strangely and he had no idea why. "We need to get you to the Keep, buddy."  
  
"No!" Darien grabbed one of Bobby's hands. "I can't go outside. They'll get me. They'll kill me."  
  
"No one is going to hurt you. I'm right here, so no one's gonna hurt you. We need to get you to Claire so she can help..."  
  
"Bobby, please don't make me go outside. They'll kill me. I don't want to die." Darien was on the verge of tears.   
  
"Okay. Okay, you don't have to outside. I'll just call Claire and tell her to come over here." Hobbes tried to keep his tone comforting. Darien nodded shakily and wrapped his arms around his knees. He began rocking back and forth. "I don't want to die, Bobby," he whispered.   
  
"You're not going to, partner. You know I've always got your back." Darien gave Bobby a small smile.   
  
Hobbes took out his cell phone and dialed Claire. He moved away from Darien so that he wouldn't be able to hear the conversation. Hobbes heard the click on the other line as the Keeper picked up the phone. "Bobby?"  
  
"Yeah, it's me. Look, you better get over to Fawkes' place now."  
  
"Is something wrong with Darien? Is he quicksilver mad?"  
  
Hobbes glanced at Darien. He was still rocking back and forth, his face etched with fear. "No, it's not that. Just get over here. You better bring some kind of sedative with you," Hobbes said softly. He heard Claire sigh into the phone. "Alright, I'll be there in a few minutes."   
  
Bobby hung up his phone and walked back towards Fawkes. He kneeled down beside him. "She's on her way, Darien. You're gonna be okay."  
  
__________________  
  
  
Bobby stood by the window in the observation room alone. He wasn't looking in at the padded cell, though. He couldn't bring himself to do it after what he had seen and heard in the past few days. The intercom was turned off so Darien's screams couldn't be heard.  
  
Bobby's hands were shaking. They hadn't stopped since they had brought Darien in. When Claire had arrived, she had surprisingly been able to sedate him without much trouble. They had gotten him into the van and driven to the Agency. Bobby told her what had happened back in the apartment.   
  
Once they got him into the lab, Claire suggested that they restrain him in the chair just in case. The last thing she wanted was for him to hurt himself or someone else.   
  
Darien had woken up screaming. He struggled against the restraints until they cut into his flesh. Claire had finally been forced to sedate him again and put him in the padded cell. That's where he had been for the past two days.   
  
Bobby didn't look up when the door to the observation room opened. It was Claire. She had a look of intense worry on her face. "Bobby, are you alright?" she asked softly.  
  
Hobbes shook his head. "Do I look okay, Claire?"   
  
She moved towards him slowly with her arms crossed, her expression one of sympathy. "I'm sorry, Bobby. I know how worried you must be."  
  
"No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound that harsh. It's just...I'm just worried about Fawkes." Hobbes sighed deeply. "So what did you find out?"  
  
"Look, why don't we sit down."  
  
"Can't be good news." Bobby dropped into a chair and Claire sat down beside him.   
  
"I did several tests, half of which Darien wouldn't even cooperate with. I was able to gather enough information to form as close a diagnosis as is possible at this point." She paused, trying to think of a better way to put what she had to say. When it came to what she had to say, there really was no easy way to put it."I think that the Darien we know is...he's gone. His mind has been put under so much strain that he just finally broke."  
  
"Oh God," Bobby sighed softly, "Is he...I mean, you can help him, right?" Hobbes could tell what the answer was by Claire's defeated expression.  
  
"Bobby, there's is a very real possibility that we will never be able to retrieve his sanity. He's...he's gone, Bobby." Claire sounded close to tears. She dropped her eyes to the floor.   
  
"How did this happen?"  
  
Claire put her hand on his knee, trying to be comforting. "I don't have enough results to be able to give an exact diagnosis. It might have something to do with the gland, or maybe the counteragent. My best guess right now would be that it's just the amount of stress he's been under these past few months."   
  
"There has to be something we can do. Maybe if I talk to him. Maybe I can do something." Hobbes was determined to help Darien. Not only was Darien his partner, he was his friend.  
  
"I don't know, Bobby."  
  
"It's not going to hurt, right? We might as well give it a shot," Hobbes said hopefully.  
  
Claire glanced into the padded cell. Darien was sitting on the floor against the wall staring at the ground. "Okay. Just don't get your hopes up, Bobby."  
  
Hobbes walked towards the entrance of the cell. He took a deep breath, opened the door, and stepped inside. The light reflected off of the white walls, making the room bright. The air was cool. "Hey, partner. How're you doing?"  
  
Darien looked up at Hobbes and smiled an empty smile. "Bobby, I'm safe."  
  
Hobbes sat down beside Darien. "Of course you are, Fawkes. Claire is going to figure out a way to help you and everything's going to be okay. You don't have anything to worry about," he reassured.  
  
"Do you see all the colors, Hobbes?"  
  
Bobby looked around the room. There wasn't any color in the room at all, just solid white. "There aren't any colors, Fawkes. Just white."  
  
"No. Don't you see them? The voices are telling me I'm safe. Safe here with all the colors. Please tell me that you see them, Bobby. They're all around you." Darien was almost begging. He sounded like he was desperate to get someone to understand him.  
  
Hobbes debated on what to say. Claire's words floated into his mind. "There's a very real possibility that we will never be able to retrieve his sanity..."   
  
Maybe if Darien thought Bobby believed him, he would let him in. Maybe they could discuss what was going on inside Darien's head. The people who wanted to kill him, the voices. He wouldn't be giving up by telling Darien that he saw his hallucinations, he would only be trying to gain some sort of trust.   
  
Hobbes put his hand on one of Darien's shoulders. "I see them, Fawkes. I see the colors."  
  
Darien smiled. "I knew you saw them. I knew you did, Bobby."  
  
Tears stung Hobbes' eyes. It wasn't his partner, his friend, that was smiling at him. He could see it in his eyes. Hobbes couldn't see Darien at all. All he saw was confusion, sadness, and pain.  
  
"Yeah, I see them. I see all the colors, Fawkes."  
  
  
~The End~ 


End file.
